


home;

by bloodynargles



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Babies, Baby Elves, Dragon Age Quest: Protect Clan Lavellan, Eluvians, Elvhen, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, Past Lavellan/Solas, Unplanned Pregnancy, ailith is so smol and canon i love it, and then u find out youre with his child, hes not dead actually but, its bittersweet and then happy if you've read ala's canon, tfw your egg leaves, when will oleander come back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8827537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodynargles/pseuds/bloodynargles
Summary: Had she known, she tells herself, he wouldn't have left, because she would have told him and he would have stayed instead of fleeing into the shadows and disappearing, leaving all the traces of him being here stale and still in the fresh air that circulated around Skyhold.





	

She knows if she puts either of her feet down a slight harder as she tiptoes past the small cot she'll wake her, the small little bundle inside that was wholly unexpected and came with a tang of something that felt bittersweet. Had she known... Had she known, she tells herself, he wouldn't have left, because she would have told him and he would have stayed instead of fleeing into the shadows and disappearing, leaving all the traces of him being here stale and still in the fresh air that circulated around Skyhold. His frescoes unfinished and his books still open on his desk – the room feels _empty_ now, as if all the warmth that he had once looked at her with had dissipated once he left. She had ventured in several times, when the child would stir within her and she'd curl up on the plush seat, leaning her head against one of the arms, letting her mind wander to when he was still there, quiet and unassuming, _home_. Her mind would come to to an empty room that felt cold even in the height of summer, where the veilfire flickered away but no longer looked as enchanting as she had once saw it to be. They think she shouldn't love him, still, and perhaps she thought she didn't, made a promise to those who care for her that her feelings no longer existed, she believed it then. But then she was staring into the small eyes of their child, the blue irises wide and bright looking back up at her and they were _his_ , and an overwhelming feeling of sadness engulfed her like she had imagined the sky would the world, before the breach was closed for good. She had love, she has _always_ had love for the little one, and the thought of what could have been lingers in the back of her mind at every moment, and the sadness creeps in through the cracks that remain since he left without a trace but she lives, despite the fact. Still attends the war table and tea with Josephine, lets Cullen fuss her about not sleeping enough even though the man barely sleeps himself, their sleepless nights often spent together, sipping lukewarm tea and talking about things that were wholly irrelevant, the small baby coddled in her arms, wrapped in Orlesian-made blankets that had been a gift from Cassandra. They had come with a note of the same bittersweetness that Ailith herself had, the same sisterly love that she had once experienced in her own sister was clear in every word in the letter that accompanied the blankets, the words of good health and prayers were comforting from someone she had grown to call family. They all were. She is glad that after losing her own, after being thrown into something she could once say was akin to nightmares, they emerged as friends, as a family. She is grateful that they consider her the same.

 

The little one is old enough now that she feels a slight better about leaving her to rest in the cot, though the maid who stays with her has her whole gratitude as she slips past the young woman on her way down the stairs, a small smile in passing reassures her to her daughter's safety. No one in this keep would ever let anything touch Ailith, not after all they had been through as the Inquisition. Together, even if one of them had left before saying goodbye.

Her fingers press gently against the large wooden door as she prays to herself that the noise isn’t too loud, her footsteps quiet but seemingly they echo in the main hall as she tries to slip out into the garden without making much noise. The cool air prickles against her skin but soothes her as her bare feet press into the soft ground. Sometimes she misses it, the terrain changes as her clan moved along the Free Marches, how gentle grass felt between her toes or how stone made her soles calloused. It changed after she was tasked to go to the conclave, everything she stood on felt wrong the further she left her clan's camp and eventually she had buckled and purchased too big boots that felt strange on but lasted her the whole way. They're still stashed away in the small room that houses the ladder in her quarters, some of the only things that she has left from the person she was before the mark, before Solas and the breach – before Ailith.

 

Feet press against smooth stone as she wanders up onto the walkway, fingers pressing against the door to the eluvian room, a hesitation almost rids her of the curiosity, of the _urge_ to go inside but she holds steady, pushing the door open to the blue light of an open eluvian and it takes her breath, like it always has, a relic from a time which her people yearn to know of is alight with magic in front of her and she isn't one to deny it. Her child crosses her mind, the soft rise and fall of her chest lingers in Althrael's mind as she takes steps towards the mirror, fingertips dancing across the surface before she takes a breath through shaky lungs and steps inside, praying to gods she's not sure she believes in to make sure that she returns safe.

 

She had almost forgotten how ethereal the crossroads were, like a dream she had had once as a child, a place she so vividly remembers it is almost realistic, almost _real_. Another mirror glows across from the one she came from, her small feet taking steady, calculated steps toward it. Unknowing of what is on the other side she glances back to from where she came, and steps inside with her eyes staring back. She turns around to a ruin not unlike that of the temple of Mythal, mosaics gracing the walls and frescoes that remind her of the ones that Solas had painted in Skyhold fade. Taking small steps forward her eyes almost miss the figure that stares at her in wonder, veilfire torch in hand and it takes her moments that feel like years to realise who exactly stood before her. “Fira?” Her own voice breaks as the other drops the torch to run to her, arms thrown around her as sobs echo in the large room. “I thought you were dead.” Blue eyes are wide as they look at her, framed by dark lashes coated in tears, “I ran. I was told to.” Her sister's face dims with sadness at the thought of their clan, and Althrael bows her head, ashamed that she could have done _something_. Anything. But Fira was _here_ , and alive. Somewhere that leaves hope for... “Did Oleander...?” Fira's eyes jump to her, “I was hoping that I’d find him when I went back, but... his body wasn't there.” She nods, her sister's arms falling to her sides, eyes glancing over at the eluvian. “I didn't activate it..” Amber green eyes follow her gaze, and the swirling magic that had enthralled her from the start drew her in once again. “Do you have anything?” The other looks back to her, “Here? No.” A smile creeps its way onto her face at the thought of Fira experiencing the crossroads for the first time, seeing Ailith for the first time, seeing Skyhold and meeting the people she had adopted into her _own_ family. She looks back to her sister with an excitement and wonder in her eyes that reminds the other of before, when they were children and Althrael had found something new to show them.

She grabs Fira's hand and tugs her toward the mirror, pulling her in before she could hesitate and pull away, always the one who needed to be sure of everything, her sister would want to know facts before she made a move. Responsible. Althrael had been naive, chasing after butterflies and eagerly learning everything she could, and Oleander was cocky, protective of both of them yet being the middle child. Her twin.

 

Her sister is still at the sight of the countless eluvians around them, some alight in the distance but they all seemed too far to reach and she only wanted to go back to her little one. She takes steps toward the one that will return them to Skyhold, only pausing to look back at her sister. “Are you coming?” Her laugh bubbles up at the looks on the other's face, and Fira finally looks at her, eyes narrowing as she took her own hesitant steps forward. “Where does that one go?” She nods toward the mirror in front of them, bringing a smile to Althrael's face. “ _Home._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> the clan died bc i picked the wrong things, oleander is ala's twin brother and fira is older than both of them. 
> 
> im sad about solas leaving ala and i forgot how terrible the ending was. also the fight took 2 minutes bc i procastinated the fuck out of the temple of mythal and did joh instead so ala was level 25 and basically op
> 
> also ailith is canon this is canon its perfect


End file.
